In the Dewy Grass, Under the Stars (you kissed me)
by carpemermaid
Summary: Harry patted his back awkwardly. "It's alright, mate. Happens to the best of us." Malfoy's response was muffled into Harry's shirt. It made his stomach do a funny little flip. He was struck by a desire to wrap his arms around Malfoy and hug him while they lay in the grass together.


_Notes:_ For a tumblr prompt game: _things you said when you were drunk._

As a surprise birthday gift, this fic now has some glorious fanart to go with it by **skarhead** , check it out here on tumblr

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Harry snorted and flopped back against the damp grass on the shore of the Great Lake, suppressing the laughter that wanted to bubble out of him. His limbs felt loose and warm from the Firewhisky he was sharing with Malfoy of all people. Malfoy, who was currently howling with laughter, with his normally impeccable hair in complete disarray and his school tie undone. It looked good on him, being so disheveled.

Malfoy lost his balance and toppled back, landing against Harry's side, still snickering.

"Alright, that's enough for you, I think," Harry said, grabbing for the half-empty bottle.

"I think not!" Malfoy declared, cradling the bottle away from Harry's reach. "Do you know what I had to go through to even smuggle this out of my house under my mother's watchful eyes? She barely lets me out of her sight as it is."

"Well, give it here, I need more," Harry reasoned, snatching it away from him and taking a long pull of the burning liquid. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth when he finished, catching Malfoy watching him intently. "What?"

Malfoy shook his head, "Nothing. Give it back."

They lapsed into silence and stared out at the gentle waves breaking on the lakeshore. The term was almost over, and they would all be set free on the wizarding world to get on with their lives—to find careers and carve lives for themselves outside of the shadow of the war that haunted their teenage years. Harry sighed and folded his arms beneath his head. Harry wasn't sure he was ready for any of that. All he'd known for so long was that Voldemort was after him, and he'd spent the better part of eighth year just enjoying his life without a dark cloud over it. He'd even made peace with Malfoy. Mostly. However, now that he was on the brink of entering real life, he wasn't sure what to do or whether he was ready for it.

"Where did you go, Potter?" Malfoy asked, poking his side with cold fingers where his t-shirt had ridden up. "Come back to me."

Malfoy traced his fingers over his exposed side, sending little shivers up Harry's spine. Harry almost arched into the touch. He tamped down on the urge and grabbed his hands to keep Malfoy's cold fingers from torturing him.

"Watch it, Malfoy. I was just thinking about the end of term."

"Oh, yes. Looking forward to the Auror Academy, then?" Malfoy shifted and leaned his head on Harry's shoulder. His hands went limp in Harry's hand, and when Harry loosened his grip Malfoy entwined their hands together. It felt sort of…nice.

"Yeah. I guess," Harry answered. He shrugged, jostling Malfoy's head and earning an irritated grumble. Malfoy shifted again and settled back down.

"Oh? Is the golden boy not going to be an Auror after all?" he teased.

"I just…like this, right now. Here," Harry said, squeezing Malfoy's hand. "It would be nice to stay in this moment for a while. I don't know."

"Don't be so bloody dramatic, Potter. Life goes on, get over it," Malfoy scoffed.

Harry turned his head to look at Malfoy and was startled by the fierceness reflected in his grey eyes when he tilted his head up to meet Harry's gaze.

"What are you going to do after term?" he asked curiously.

Harry realised they were very close. He almost felt like he was floating, even though he was on the ground. He could feel the dew on the grass seeping through his t-shirt and shivered. Malfoy propped himself up on his elbow, leaning over Harry.

"I'm going to move on with my life once I get out of here. I didn't even want to come back, I wanted to take my N.E.W.T.s at the Ministry, but Mother insisted on my return," Malfoy said, his voice slurring slightly from too much to drink.

He jabbed a finger into Harry's chest, leaning close and breathing his Firewhisky-tinged breath in Harry's face. "I'm going to and you can't stop me this time," Malfoy insisted, poking Harry in the chest to emphasize each word.

Harry blinked. "I…wasn't planning on stopping you?"

"You're not going to stop me? No matter what?" Malfoy clarified, inching closer with a determined glint in his eyes.

"Er, yes?" Harry had no idea what had gotten into Malfoy, other than the alcohol. He was acting strange.

Malfoy stopped when he was a hair's breadth away from Harry's face. He could feel his warm breath ghosting against his lips.

"Even if I wanted to kiss you?" Malfoy whispered. His eyes had gone wide and they pinned Harry to the ground.

"I…" Harry trailed off, mind wobbling as if it was a spinning top ready to topple over.

"Even if I want to do it all the time?" Malfoy added under his breath.

"You're drunk," Harry pointed out, feeling as if everything was slowing down around him.

"And you're not?"

"Not as off my head as you are," Harry said. "You'd have to be to admit you want to kiss me all the time."

"I said that?" Malfoy blinked owlishly before ducking and hiding his face against Harry's chest.

Harry patted his back awkwardly. "It's alright, mate. Happens to the best of us."

Malfoy's response was muffled into Harry's shirt. It made his stomach do a funny little flip. He was struck by a desire to wrap his arms around Malfoy and hug him while they lay in the grass together.

Malfoy popped back up after a moment, his face pink. "Let's drink more so we can forget I said anything."

"I don't think I'll forget," Harry said. "It's not every day your rival turned friend admits he thinks about kissing you."

Malfoy looked even more surprised. "I'm your…friend?"

"Yeah? I don't hate you, you know?" Harry raised an eyebrow and watched Malfoy's face flit through several conflicting expressions before he darted forwards.

Harry yelped as Malfoy crashed into him, pressing their lips together clumsily. It probably should have been embarrassing, with how uncoordinated it was, but Harry felt himself respond immediately, his hands coming up to steady Malfoy. It didn't last long, just the span of several heartbeats, before Malfoy slumped to the side and curled up against Harry's side so he could hide his face against his neck. The tip of his nose was cold, and his breath fanning across Harry's neck was bloody distracting in the way that made him want to roll over and pin Malfoy into the grass. He brought his fingers to his lips and touched them gingerly.

"You kissed me," Harry stated. Malfoy made a sound of assent and found his hand again. "You're bloody weird when you're drunk," Harry decided.


End file.
